XXXIII ~ Involved

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{Prisoner - The Weeknd ft. Lana Del Rey}

...Maybe I've always been destined to end up in this place, I don't mean to come off selfish, but I want it all, love will always be a lesson, let's get out of its way...

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              In the bubble I had always lived in, I noticed that people hid in plain sight. Mom hid her unhappy marriage with a smile and a big empty house. Dad hid his affair with gifts and money for Mom's ever-growing closet. Bodhi hid his resentment for the family that raised him to fit into a box instead of growing and developing the way anyone should, through humour and sarcasm. He hid his drug addiction with his gentle eyes that were like that of a lost child's. Cady hid her fears for her family in her apathy. I hid behind the music and the dreams I had of making it on my own.

               People hid not only their mistakes, fears and worries. They hid their dark secrets. Black, oozing secrets that would stain the picture-perfect scenery of that Summer. Sure it had its fraying edges, and not everything was perfect, but I found I was cracking the tip of the iceberg. I was finding that the secrets were being whispered into my ear, and I was being led into the dark.

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July 16th

              My knuckles collided with the wood of Elliot's cabin with such force I felt small cuts stinging my skin as they became dotted with crimson anger. With one hand bloodied with impatiently waiting for a response and the other hand clutching the envelope that made my pam sweat with intimidation, I slammed my hand against the door.

    "Open up, Elliot!" I called loudly through to him, no longer caring who could hear me or see me.

     I had nothing to lose in coming here and making noise. Hearing a slow movement from within the walls beyond the door, I knew he was there.

     I had contemplated hiding the envelope, burning it, pretending it didn't exist. Yet it was staining my life and burning a hole into the battered reality that I knew nothing about Elliot. I knew nothing about why I had to do this or why he had a part in this shady interaction. I had no choice. I had to get rid of this envelope, and I had to get some answers.

    "Jesus, I was asleep, was there any need for you to practically bang my door down?" Elliot sleepily whined as he swung open the door, in a black tank top and a pair of sweatpants, his curls messy and his eyes half-open.

     My hand shot out before me, like an arrow towards its target, holding the envelope in a vice-like grip as his eyes registered the contents of what I held and he backed away from me, ushering me inside. I complied silently, walking into the cabin. His breathing was rigid, borderline panicked. His pupils dilated to small black circles, the fear evident as he stared at the envelope. His horrified expression answered one of the burning questions I had been dying to ask. This was not a welcome gift.

     Sensing my eyes on him as I appraised his every move, he straightened up.

    "Tim came to see me. He gave me this for you," I handed it to him, glad to be rid of the feeling of incrimination.

     I had never been more aware of my fingerprints before. I'd never want to be again. Elliot looked almost ill at the touch of the envelope as he set it down, turning to face me.

    "Thanks for bringing it by for me," he feigned ignorance as though it was nothing important.

     There was no sincerity in his voice. It was all an empty lie, a veil to shadow the truth. Something was going on.

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